The Summers living room was loud in the way it always seemed to be when the whole gang was around. Books were scattered across the coffee table, half-empty mugs of coffee sat forgotten, and somewhere in the kitchen Dawn was rummaging through the fridge like it had personally offended her.

On the couch, however, things were… considerably calmer.

You were sitting back against the cushions, legs comfortably spread on either side of Spike, who was sitting on the floor in front of you. His back rested against the couch between your knees, his head tilted back so it rested perfectly in your lap.

Your fingers lazily combed through his platinum hair, nails lightly scratching along his scalp.

Spike practically melted under the attention.

His eyes were half-closed, a soft little smile tugging at his lips as he enjoyed every second of it. One hand rested loosely on your knee, thumb occasionally tracing slow circles like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Across the room, Xander was pacing.

And getting louder by the second.

“I’m just saying—!” he snapped, throwing his hands up. “This whole thing is weird!”

You didn’t even look up from what you were doing, calmly dragging your fingers back through Spike’s hair again.

Spike’s eyelids fluttered slightly.

He was absolutely listening.

“So you’ve said,” you replied coolly.

Xander gestured wildly between you and the vampire currently using your lap as a pillow.

“He’s a vampire!”

“Mhm.”

“He’s Spike!”

Your fingers paused for half a second before continuing.

“Yes, I had noticed.”

Spike’s smirk grew.

Xander groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face before trying again.

“And he’s dangerous!”

At that, Spike cracked one eye open.

“Oi,” he muttered lazily. “Bit rude, that.”

You lightly tapped Spike’s forehead with two fingers.

“Shh,” you murmured, amused. “The humans are talking.”

Spike huffed but obediently relaxed again, clearly not interested in moving from his extremely comfortable position.

Xander pointed again, clearly losing ground in the argument.

“See?! This! This right here! He’s just— lounging around like he belongs here!”

You finally looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“He does belong here.”

Spike’s chest puffed slightly at that.

Xander sputtered.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m very serious.”

Your fingers dragged slowly through Spike’s hair again, nails scratching lightly behind his ear. Spike let out a quiet pleased hum before he could stop himself.

Xander gagged dramatically.

“Oh come on!”

You rolled your eyes.

“Xander—”

But he suddenly pointed at Spike like he’d just discovered the ultimate winning argument.

“Besides! Spike’s too old for you!”

The room went quiet for a second.

You slowly looked at him.

Your expression was completely deadpan.

Unimpressed.

Spike’s eyebrow lifted slightly as he glanced up at you, curious where this was going.

Then the corner of your mouth lifted into a sly smirk.

You leaned back slightly into the couch.

“Negative.”

Your fingers slid once more through Spike’s hair before you looked down at him.

“I love older men.”

You winked.

Spike froze for exactly one second.

Then a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

“Well,” he said smugly, tilting his head further into your lap, “heard that, Harris.”

He laced his fingers through yours where they rested in his hair and squeezed gently.

“Pets got excellent taste.”

Xander stared at both of you like his soul had just left his body.

“…I hate this house.”